


A Proposal of Sorts

by Ladylauralue



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 13:07:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5830135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladylauralue/pseuds/Ladylauralue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Secret Santa fic, and one of (but I don't think the) first attempt at proper fan fiction</p>
<p>The prompt "a proposal of sorts" where Belle and Rumplestiltskin organize his shop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Proposal of Sorts

Morning sunlight seeped in through small, dingy windows, shimmering against the gleaming cases cluttered with relics of a land full of magic. The metallic gleam of a hundred fanciful items caught and reflected the light they received. This small concession to sunlight was all the shop allowed, the rest of the establishment in half shadows. The proprietor, Rumpelstiltskin, preferred to work in ambiguity. All light or all shadows, one could get used to, but the twilight of his domain kept people on edge. Some used that edge to stay alert, but others let it tip them into despair. One, however, brought her own sunlight, banishing the shadows of the shop and the shadows that clung to his thoughts. His steps padding on the carpet, he ambled to the front door of his shop. He leaned heavily on his cane, flicking the sign around and then clicking the lock open. Down the street he could just make out movement at the library as Miss French opened the doors and welcomed the world in.

Turning back to his shadows, Rumpelstiltskin looked at the clocks on the far wall. He turned abruptly away, not wanting to give in to clockwatching. So often alone, he spent his days fiddling with the artifacts and fixing things broken. Leaning on his cane he trudged to the register, ready to start on his latest project. With magic infusing Storybrooke he needed to re-organize his shop, but with the Savior and her mother’s disappearance, her father’s sleeping curse, the reappearance and spell breakage he had little time to devote to the task. He knew without doubt the contents of his store but, sensing the calm before the storm, it was imperative that his store was orderly. If he wasn’t at the store to find what was needed, things had to be easier to find than they were now.

He pulled his ring of keys off their hook, the jangle harsh in the silent shop, and walked to the display case closest to the door. He couldn’t be caught off guard this close to the entrance. It was looking to be time consuming work. The first task was classification: enchanted objects with active magic, artifacts with latent magic, and things that weren’t magical at all. While he was at it he decided it would be best if he also started moving things as well. He shucked his suit jacket, pulled up a chair, and began his work.

…

Bright sunlight and books everywhere, and patrons milling and wondering about; that’s what Belle French enjoyed about her days. She finally had a chance to go on adventures in a way she’d never been able to before. At home books were expensive and rare, not many had fanciful stories. She remembered making do with the histories in her father’s library, but here, in a world without magic, she’d explored worlds she’d never even dreamed possible. Writers were this world’s sorcerers and magicians and she was constantly in wonder of the spells they’d weave.

Shaking herself from her reverie she grinned, remembering the awe she’d felt at the Dark One’s castle. She’d never seen him do much magic; he kept that work to his tower. He did, however, spin straw into gold in the main hall. In her mind she drew obvious parallels between straw changing to gold and words changing to a story. She grinned to herself in wistfulness before walking over to the children’s section, one of her favorite corners of the library. She’d done her best to make it whimsical, but there was only so much a few layers of paint could do. Her mind’s eye saw it as a place that brought the best of this world’s writings and her home world’s magic and made a place where children could lose themselves from their fears or worries.

A tugging at her belt distracted her from her thoughts. A girl with dark curls looked up at her with wide green eyes. “Ms Belle?” her small, lisping voice carried well in the large nook “can you help me find the next book?” she held up a well loved copy of a children’s book, a collection of short stories about heroines.

“A fine choice, my little lady. Did you and your sister enjoy it?” she asked, ever curious about what people thought of the books they read.

The little girl nodded very seriously. “We read one story before bed every night, but we liked them so much we did it twice!” She held out one hand, two fingers extended to emphasize her point.

Belle smiled brightly. Even stuck in a magically non-magical town, one could always find adventure. And the only bravery needed was asking the librarian for a little direction. Placing her hand on the shoulder of the little girl Belle guided her to the pre-teen shelves and pointed out the rest of the series. Feeling greatly rewarded by the beaming smile she walked back to her desk with a spring in her step. She wanted to write up readings lists for the patrons who weren’t sure what to read next, or what to read at all. Settling herself down, she pulled out several sheets of notebook paper and scratched out headings before really getting down to business. She switched on her computer and after the machine had warmed up, she started searching for book lists on what she had been told was a virtual worldwide network. She had made considerable progress, when she saw her friend Nova walk through the door.

Lately Nova had been trying to get out of the convent more, and though it wasn’t much, she had offered to watch the library at noon when Belle went out for lunch with Rumpelstiltskin. Nova liked being helpful, and she was getting better about understanding the organization of the library. Belle glanced at the clock, “Right on time Nova!” When Nova stopped by Granny’s Diner one morning Belle had reached out to the wispy girl with the child-like innocence. She had sensed a potential friendship, as well as someone who needed to be believed in. She and Nova had bonded over their mutual wishes for adventure, for wanting to seek something more out of life than what they were handed.

Nova grinned, a childish giggle not really repressed by the hand pressed to her lips “Well, it’s not as though I have anywhere else to be. The Blue Fairy hasn’t given me anything to do yet.” The grin dropped a little, but Belle wouldn’t let it stay down.

“That’s all for the better isn’t it? You read to the children at story time and help me out.” Belle straightened her papers and put them to the side, pulled her coat off the chair and walked around to Nova’s side, “There aren’t many children, yet, but don’t worry. I think people still aren’t used to the library being open. Some of the children have been telling me they like your way of telling stories better than mine.”

Giving the eager fairy a good bye hug Belle slid her coat on and walked out to the street. Looking up and down the road, she saw no sign of Rumpelstiltskin, who was a reliably punctual man. Rather than stand out in the chill air, she headed down the block towards to pawn shop. When she walked in the door, her greeting was a jingling bell and Rumpelstiltskin standing calmly at an empty display case, one arm braced on the glass surface, the other rummaging through a shabby wooden box. Other, similar boxes were on the case and floor. He looked up, his detached expression changing to joy when his eyes met her. “Belle…um…” he hastily looked over at the various clocks and back to Belle “I’m sorry, I must’ve lost track of the time. I didn’t expect things to be this jumbled together.”

Looking around at the crowded store, Belle laughed softly, “What _were_ you expecting?” A small part of her liked the cozy atmosphere that the clutter gave. It had suited his purposes well enough under the curse, and then later, making his deals and bargains after his memories returned.

“It wasn’t so much an expectation as it is a current nuisance to be remedied.” He withdrew his hand from the box, abandoning the search or the time being. “I’m attempting” he emphasized the second word, “to organize the things here. It has turned out to be a larger undertaking than I first believed. Never mind that now- past time for us to be on our way to Granny’s,” He looked around for his cane, unable to remember where he had left it. Leaning on the counter, he made as though to walk towards the end of the case until Belle stopped him.

“I can come back another time. Whatever you’re working on sound’s too important to put off.” She may have tried to mask her curiosity, or perhaps Rumpelstiltskin was reading into her tone. He didn’t want her to leave, but how could he ask her to stay?

“It is important…” he trailed off, struggling for words to explain what he was trying to do. He was trying to be helpful, or at least make things more convenient.

“You’ve known of our home world for a few months. Why the sudden importance?” Belle looked around herself, and then back to the suddenly reticent proprietor. She felt presumptuous, catching him so off guard, so she turned her focus to the trinkets under the glass. She heard Rumpelstiltskin approach, just a few steps to close the distance, but he didn’t reach out or touch her. He seemed to be waiting for her to look back to him. Never one for coyness herself, Belle looked up, her clear blue eyes meeting his dark brown.

“I’m taking precautions. If something were to happen to me- if a fight were to occur and I unable to…”he paused, unsure of his words.

“Help?” Belle supplied.

“A sufficient intent,” he nodded in agreement, accepting her word for it. “If I were unable to help, would anyone know where to look for what they need here? There are so many things here, but no one else knows where they all are.” He gestured to the display cases and shelves around him. “At best it could take hours, but as in any world, magic or no, time is always of the essence.”

“And if you’re not around,” Belle felt uncomfortable at the thought, “then you want people to be able to find what they might need.” Belle couldn’t quite stop the smile she felt. Rumpelstiltskin trying to help others, unasked. People _could_ change.

“Would you like to help me?”The words tumbled from him before he had a chance to think them through more carefully.  Immediately Rumpelstilskin regretted the question. She’d spent months at his castle as his servant. Why would she want to stay, now, when she had so much more of a life here? “I mean… Never mind that, sorry. Shouldn’t have asked. It was foolish—“

“How could I help?” Belle asked, half doubting her ability to help and half curious at what she’d be doing. “There’s an awful lot of stuff here, and I don’t really know what would go where, or how you think things should be.”

Rumpelstilskin was a little in wonder of his Belle. No, not his, not yet. “You don’t have to help, I wasn’t thinking. You have other things you could be doing” He wanted her to stay, to bring some sunshine to his shop with her laughter and smiles.

“Half a moment,” Without another word of explanation, Belle turned and ran from the shop. Through the window Rumpelstiltskin could see her bounding away.

“That’s confusing.” Rumpelstiltskin’s words were muffled in the quiet shop.

…

Belle hurried back to the library, an idea taking off in her mind and being carried out by her feet. She ran through the doors and came to a stop at her desk. She tore a scrap of paper from her notepad and scrawled a note for Nova to find.

Not long after, a bewildered Nova put down the note. It read, simply:

_Nova,_  
Important business at the pawn shop! My return has been unavoidably delayed, but I leave the library in your exceptionally capable hands.  
                            Belle

…

Rumpelstiltskin was understandably startled when Belle burst back through her door. “I’ve made arrangements. If you’d like, I am free to help.”

“Are…are you absolutely sure?” he stumbled over his words.

“Entirely. Where would you like me to begin?”

“I propose we start at the beginning; sorting.” One arm gestured to encompass the store. “We need to sort out which of these are innately magical such as enchanted rings, genie lamps and swords, which are conduits, like staffs and wands, what objects are transmogrified, and what has no magical abilities whatsoever.” He listed the objectives as though they were a shopping list, or he was discussing the simple errands of the day.

“Oh, is that all?” Nervously Belle chuckled, looking around the shop with trepidation. “Where can I start? How can I help?” Belle knew no magic, could only sometimes recognize spell work, and had no idea the proper management of enchanted artifacts. It was all a bit overwhelming.

“Worry not. If you’re up to it, you’ll be putting things in their proper place. I’d rather not risk you setting something off.” He walked to the chair he had pulled up and settled back down. He gestured to Belle to come closer, pulling up a box. “If we put what is most likely to be needed and the magical items at the front, whoever might need them can get them faster.”

“Will you tell Charming and Snow about this?” Belle hadn’t much chance to get to know the King and Queen, or anyone who didn’t come to the library. Her friendships with Ruby and Nova were circumstantial, because she’d been in the right place at the right time.

“I will. Here, these are non magical in nature,” He lifted a box, their finger tips more than brushing against each other as she took the box from him. As she turned and walked away Rumpelstiltskin couldn’t help but be appreciative of her. Not just of her looks, or her help, but of her nature. With her here, he wasn’t so weighed down by his sins, by his reputation. She saw him as he could be, saw his attempts at organizing as an effort to help when he couldn’t reach out and do it obviously. He was hiding in the shadows, as he always did. But she accepted that it was where he was most comfortable, most able.

When Belle returned she saw two puppets on the counter. “What are these things?” She reached out almost about to pick them up, but held back at the last moment.

“They’re safe to touch. They were once people,” he felt the unspoken question, rather than saw it in Belle’s face. He couldn’t face her, fearing what she’d think. “A young mother and father who were in the wrong place with the wrong people. I gave a potion to a man who wished to leave his parents, but they switched it without him knowing, and he gave it to the unsuspecting couple his parents were swindling. He didn’t know until it was too late that they’d switched it. But the horror of what he’d done gave him the courage to leave. It was an accident, but he blamed himself, and still does.”

“Magic comes with a price…” Belle’s soft voice cut Rumpelstiltskin. How many times had he said that to someone, mocking them in their desperation? It came with a price, and it had to be paid. How often had he abused that price? Did it even matter now? “That’s what you tell people, isn’t it?”

Was she accusing him? Rumpelstiltskin looked up, trying to push aside his cowardice. She was looking at the husband and wife sadly, not angrily. “But people don’t care. They’re so desperate for some kind of solution they’ll do anything, give anything to get your help.” She finally looked to him.

Ashamed of her assessment, he met her gaze anyway. “I know how to recognize a desperate soul. When you see one in your reflection every day, you recognize the look in someone’s eyes.” He turned back to the case, pulling out without seeing any non magical object that fell under his searching fingers. He hastily glanced over, making sure there was nothing that could be useful in the upcoming battle before shoving the box aside with his good knee. He stopped his frantic motions of avoidance when he felt Belle’s hand on his shoulder. He closed his eyes, savoring the brief contact as well as he could before reaching up to move her hand. He held it in his own as he turned to face her. He opened his mouth to speak, but was stopped by her words.

“You toy with words” Another cut to his heart “but you warn people, and you don’t force them to chose. People decide their own fate, whether or not it’s accepting one of your deals.” She had no idea of how much she was absolving him. “It doesn’t change what you’ve done, but you have enough sins in your past. You don’t need to take on others, or take on accidents as sins.”

Rumpelstiltskin lifted Belle’s hand to his mouth, holding the soft skin to his lips, cherishing the touch and her willingness of it. He left his thoughts and lowered her hand, looking up into her eyes. “Let’s get on with our work, Belle. We have much of it to go”.

Belle nodded and took the next box he gestured to. They continued in companionable silence, broken only by Belle’s questions about one relic or another. Sometimes the memory seemed to hurt Rumpelstiltskin to relate, but he would regale her with it nevertheless. When these stories came up she’d walk to his side, offering the comfort of her touch till the shadows withdrew from his eyes. Other stories had no pain, only the sadness of a lost or unfinished story. Belle listened attentively to every account, out of homesickness for a world she remembered, and out of a wanting to do something to banish the shadows from her True Love’s eyes. She knew she couldn’t do it all herself, but she could help him as he walked the path to redemption.

They worked late into the evening, the darkness encroaching on the daylight. As they finished categorizing the shop Rumpelstiltskin surveyed their efforts. Belle assured him repeatedly that the new arrangement made sense, going so far as to offer to draw up a small map for him to pass along to the King and Queen when he told them of the changes he’d made. “I just might take you up on that offer,” was all he would say. After Rumpelstiltskin finishing dusting the shelves and counters and Belle swept and vacuumed the floor they walked out the door, pausing for a moment as Rumpelstiltskin locked to door.

“Since we missed lunch, would you care to accompany me for dinner?” Rumpelstiltskin asked, offering his arm to Belle who, with a laugh, took it.

“I just might take you up on that offer.”

 


End file.
